


on life

by wordsofink



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Cute, Depression, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grief, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Mortal AU, Nostalgia, Small Road Trip, beach, kind of a character study?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsofink/pseuds/wordsofink
Summary: sometimes life is hard to navigate*characters are not mine unless otherwise noted*





	on life

The future was a funny thing, he thought. It stretched for miles upon miles, every imaginable second of space being taken up by something that had yet to happen. Might never happen. And it only happened in the mind. Realistically, he knew, there was no such thing as the future. He couldn’t touch it, couldn’t see it, couldn’t even predict it. It was simply something here one moment, gone the next, dissolved into the infinite moment that is the present.

But looking into those soft brown eyes, the color of faded leather, Will thinks he might have seen the future.  
-  
He’d met Nico di Angelo in the rain, when most fateful things seemed to happen. He’d been walking back from the beach, his wet curls constantly falling into his eyes. It was on the fiftieth attempt to brush them out of his line of vision that he saw Nico. The boy was hunched over something, a white tombstone, his clothes drenched through. He didn’t hear Will coming up behind him, startled when Will stopped just inches away from him.

“Are you okay?” Will asks. It was more habit than anything. Will knew it was weird to ask someone if they were okay when their eyes were rimmed red, when you knew that those were tears on their face, not raindrops. Still, maybe the question had its purpose.

The boy shakes his head.

“Are you hungry?” Will asks next. He wasn’t sure yet how to help this boy. But he was thin and cold, and Will’s mama made some of the best soup in town. “Mama’s making soup. You can have some.” Will tries for a smile, and the boy swipes a hand across his face. A small trail of snot follows the hand back to the ground, but Will still sticks his hand out.

“I’m Will.”

“Nico.” Will smiles. He feels like he’s just made a friend. A best friend, perhaps. But he won’t know that until later.  
-  
Nico, Will learned, had a father and a step-mother. He also had a step-sister, though she was much younger than him. He also had a regular sister, but she’d been lost to days past. Will nods. He understood death only in the most simplistic way that children do. That the body is no longer functioning, awake, alive. The soul has gone someplace else for safe-keeping. The memories are left for those who have to stay behind.

Nico just nods as Will tells him this. Will’s mama had fed them soup and sandwiches before ushering Nico to take a hot bath. Will had picked out some of his comfiest clothing for Nico to wear. He wanted to make sure Nico was well cared for, something his mama had taught him was very important. You always took care of those you loved.

And Will knew he loved Nico, even if he’d just met him. Will’s mama had always told him he had an infinite capacity for love, and Will was always happy to share that with everyone he met. But there was something special about Nico di Angelo. Something that made Will want to give Nico a little bit extra of his love.  
-  
They were laying in Will’s bed, Nico bundled up underneath the covers. He was asleep. Will was not. Will was trying to figure out the grand mystery of Nico di Angelo. He didn’t understand how a boy with so much love could be so sad. On some level, he understood that death made people sad. But there were so many other things to be happy about, he thought. He didn’t understand why Nico didn’t like the beach, like swimming, like the rain.

Will thought the world was magical, and maybe Nico, too.

“Are you watching me again?” Nico’s voice comes from under a few layers of blankets. They’re almost twelve now. It’s been two years since they met on that rainy day. To Will, it feels like he’s known Nico forever. And maybe he has. Forever stretches as far as the future in Will’s mind. Even at the age of eleven, he can’t quite understand the concept of forever.

“No,” Will says, though they both know he’s lying.

“Whatever,” Nico says. He doesn’t move from where he’s curled up. Will looks at him, looks at his messy hair that’s grown longer since last time, his sleepy brown eyes, his downturned lips. Will promised himself that he’d get Nico to smile. And one day, maybe the smile would stay.

“Are you hungry?” Will asks. Nico rolls his eyes, but he nods. Will produces a box of crackers from his nightstand, sticking one in Nico’s mouth. The act should feel intimate, but it doesn’t. Instead, he feels so natural, like brushing his hair or that burst of pain after stubbing your toe. Everything about their friendship feels natural to Will. He’s never stopped to think about it, never really needing to. It just is. Like everything else he’s ever known.  
-  
“Weren’t we supposed to meet your brother?” Nico asks. He’s leaning over Will, his long hair falling into Will’s face. Will tugs at it, Nico attempting to glare. Nico rolls over so that they’re both on their backs. Since becoming friends with Nico, Will’s found a love for the backroads of his town. They lead to grassy fields and tall, strong trees that are perfect for climbing. Here is where Nico is at his most alive.

“He can wait,” Will says. Michael was always late, anyway. And Will was too stunned by Nico’s smirk to even think about moving. He can feel the cool earth seeping through his shirt, the hot sun baking his exposed skin. It’d rained last night, washing over Will and Nico’s little piece of earth. Will feels a bug crawling up his leg, moving to swipe it off, only to find that Nico’s trailing a blade of grass over Will’s skin. He grins when Will huffs.

“We should go,” Nico says. It takes a bit for either of them to move, but then they’re racing down the road. They’re fifteen, but neither of them has dreams of driver’s license and cars and leaving. This tiny piece of coast has been their home for the forever of their lives, and they can’t imagine anything more.

“Why are there so many people?” Will whines. Nico snorts. They’ve stopped to get ice cream before meeting up with Michael on the dock.  
“It’s tourist season, Solace. People come here to get away from their crappy jobs and eleven-story houses.” Will doesn’t quite believe someone would want an eleven-story house, even if Nico is just poking fun at him. “I mean, you could always go somewhere for vacation like they do. Avoid the rush.”

Will shakes his head. It seems so weird of an idea to go to someone else’s home just to get away from your own. Do those people not like where they live? Why live there? Are they stuck? Will would hate to be stuck. The last thing he wants is to breathe the same breath twice.

“Solace, you’re holding up the line.” Will flicks his eyes up to the menu before giving his order. He pays for Nico’s ice cream, too, without a thought. “I have my own money, you know,” Nico says as they’re walking towards Michael and the dock.

“So do I,” Will says. He’s proud of himself for getting a job. It doesn’t pay much, but Will’s always liked the idea of working. He likes the idea of helping, of being able to provide for those he loves. Especially now that Mama can’t work anymore.

They’re late to meet Michael, but he doesn’t care once Will gives him an ice cream cone.  
-  
Will’s seventeen, and his mama is dying. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d known it all along. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t understand the crushing feeling that accompanies every breath, the feeling that he’s falling even when he’s already on the ground, the feeling that he’s missed something.

“It’s not your fault,” Nico says. Right next to the thought that Mama’s dying is the thought that Nico’s right. That Nico knows what he’s going through. That he can get through this.

“But I can’t stop it,” Will says. It’d been three months since the diagnosis. Three months of waiting for the world to stop spinning, the ocean to break into pieces, for his mama to say it’s all a joke. On the surface, nothing has really changed yet. The world is still spinning, the ocean is still fluid, his mama is still dying.

Nico just pulls Will into his arms. Will feels like he should be crying, but the tears haven’t come yet. He wonders if this makes him a bad son. He wonders if it’s because his heart is already breaking, that he can’t quite love as wholly as he once had. That he’s breaking.

“You weren’t meant to stop it, Will,” Nico says. “You’re just meant to love her the best you can.”

It’s two more years of just waiting, breaths held, eyes dry before everything shatters. Will’s held off going to college, getting a better paying job, leaving. He can’t leave when he’s still got roots at home. Nico comes to visit from college almost every weekend. He’ll sit in the hospital room or Will’s bedroom or on the beach. Wherever Will is, he’ll be there if he can. He hasn’t put his life on hold like Will has, but grief has already knocked on his door, been answered, been kindly asked to depart. Will’s still living with his.

And then two years are over, and Will’s packing his bags. He’s leaving, following Nico to college, because there isn’t anything left for him here. Mama’s buried, her soul secure, and her memories are packed away in a shattered corner of Will’s heart.  
-  
Will had never imagined life outside of his home. He’d never imagined that bright, vibrant people could live somewhere else. Not because they couldn’t, but just because why would they want to live anywhere else? But slowly he lets himself out into the world. He’s restless, always trying to make each new spot he visits home. He can’t find it.

He puts himself through school, the first long year turning quickly into four years gone. He and Nico are roommates, though Nico’s got a boyfriend. So Will’s more like a third wheel.

“Come out with me, Will,” Nico says. “Mitchell won’t be there, I promise. Just some time to clear your mind, get your head out of those books.” There’s a hint of teasing in Nico’s voice. They’re twenty-two, old enough that the world can be theirs, young enough not to know.

Will lets Nico drag him out of their flat. They’re in some bustling city. Nico had hoped that the commotion would distract Will’s ever-wandering mind and restless legs. Here, there would always be something new to see, something new to do. One never had to look far for an adventure. Still, Will finds it lacking in something. The obvious is that it’s not home. His mama isn’t waiting for him, Michael won’t make surprise visits. (He’s also moved on to bigger and brighter things.)

Will thinks that Nico’s going to lead him to some restaurant or club or park. They’ve visited an innumerable amount of statues and signposts and clubs. Will always feels like he’s forgotten to take his shoes off upon entering someone’s house. He’s lived here for two and a half years, and it still feels foreign.

But Nico’s leading him to the car, the thing that’s never used unless it’s raining or they’re going out of town. Will doesn’t ask. He’s afraid of asking, afraid of the unknown. The unknown is the future, the forever that he can’t touch or see. He can’t even imagine it anymore.

Afternoon turns to evening as they stop at a drive-through. Then evening is becoming night. They’re on country roads, gas stations so far apart that finding one is like a miracle. Then the roads are back to being paved, and the air changes. It’s no longer open and breezy, the smell of fertilizer and hay. It’s stickier and heavier. It almost feels suffocating with how many memories it brings back.

Will’s definitely sure his heart has shattered because memories of home are leaking out. They’re in the silhouettes of palm trees, the flat plains of sand, the salt in the air. Will’s memorized every bump along this road, and he closes his eyes, willing every memory to stay inside of him. (He can’t lose them. Not again.)

He hasn’t cried since his mama’s funeral. He cried when they carried the casket out, was still crying when they lowered it into the ground. When the last tear fell, it was over. He was done. He stripped his room of everything that was his, packed everything he wanted into three suitcases, and left. He hadn’t been back since. Not in five years.

But here he was.

Nico holds his hand as they slowly make their way onto the beach. This had been the one place Will had missed, had almost let himself miss. It was just the same as he remembered, the rough sand digging into the soft soles of his feet, the relentless breeze, the rush of the ocean to greet him.

He was home, home, home, and it whispered to him.  
-  
Nico held him while he cried. His legs had given out first, then his arms, then his resolve. He’d let it all go. It needed to go. He couldn’t keep holding it back. It hurt too much, filled up too much space inside of him. He’d suffocated from the inside, trying so hard to bury every memory he wanted to keep.

He cried until he couldn’t tell if the taste of salt was his tears or the ocean. The sand left weird marks on his skin. (He was sure he’d find it in all of the unlucky places tomorrow.) The moon was out in full, and the tide had calmed. He had calmed.

“Are you okay?” Nico asks. Will shrugs. He feels empty now, like there isn’t anything left of himself. He’s just skin and bones and shattered pieces.

“Are you hungry?” Will looks at Nico, an almost-smile trying to tug itself onto his face. “I know a place where we can get ice cream.”  
-  
They get ice cream before walking to all of their favorite spots. They visit the dock where Will had gotten his first job, the small town where Nico had gotten his. They visit the backroads where Nico had come alive, where Will had broken his wrist falling out of a tree. They passed the empty farmer’s market, the closed down shops, their old school. Everything seemed just as it had been. The world kept spinning.

The last road they take leads to the graveyard before hooking to the right. Nico smiles softly as he places flowers at his mother’s, then his sister’s graves. They stay there for a few moments while Nico tells them about his life, what’s been happening. Nico asks him if he wants to see his mama. Will nods, but he doesn’t find her gravestone. Instead, he heads up the road.

At the end of the sharp right, is a small yellow house. The lights are all off, the doors probably locked, the screens keeping the bugs out. There’s a car parked in the driveway, and it hurts a little that this isn’t home anymore. Silently, they make their way to the backyard where Will’s mama had set up a swing.

Will sits down.

“Hey, Mama,” he whispers. There’s a slight breeze, the scent of salt and bonfire smoke and nostalgia. “I wanted to say hi.” He’s not sure what else to say. He’s never had trouble talking to her, but it feels weird now. He doesn’t even know if she’s listening.

“She’s here,” Nico says softly. “It’s okay.” He holds Will’s hand. They close their eyes. Neither of them speaks. Will’s mind is full of words, but his heart is full of love. He never meant to leave his mama behind when he’d left. It’d just hurt too much to take her. But now he’s back, and he’s not leaving her again.

“Mama,” he says. And he knows that her life may have ended, but his hasn’t. He’s standing in his old backyard, fingers sticky with ice cream, his best friend by his side. “The world’s still spinning,” he finishes.  
-  
Will had never quite understood time. It was infinite, ever-reaching, ever-expanding. But it was also always right now. Everyone had a past, everyone had a present. Not everyone had a future. But maybe that was enough, Will thinks. The past had given him memories, a home, a heart full of love. Mama was in the past, but she was also in the present. The present gave him so much more. Maybe, he thinks, if he lives in the present, he won’t need the future.

Nico di Angelo is sleeping in the passenger seat. His head is leaning against the window, chest rising and falling. Will’s got the radio blaring out into the quiet night. He’s not sure why, but he doesn’t feel the need to turn it off. When he gets back to their crappy flat, he rummages through his things. (Nico’s standing in the doorway, watching, but Will doesn’t care.) He keeps searching until he finds the picture of his mama and him. He sets it on his nightstand, and something lifts inside of him.

He looks at Nico. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Nico smiles.  
-  
They’re moving into a new flat, this one bigger and shinier. The floor doesn’t creak, and the electricity doesn’t go off every other time it rains. They’ve even got an extra bedroom, though they’ve decided to turn it into an office. Now that they’re sleeping in the same bed. Now that they’re officially together, boyfriend and boyfriend.

Nico flops down on the bed the moment Will carries in the last box. (He’s made Will do most of the lifting work, insisting that most of the heavy things were Will’s anyway.)

“Finally,” Nico yells. Will laughs. He’s sure they’re going to get noise complaints, but he doesn’t care. He’s just officially moved into his new home. With his boyfriend. (He doesn’t realize it yet, but Nico’s what makes it home.) “I thought we’d never get the last box in. I can’t believe I’m dating a pack-rat.” He pokes Will’s ribs.

“Forgive me for having some earthly attachments,” Will retorts. Nico rolls his eyes. “So, take-out or go out?”

“Take-out. I’m not stepping outside that door until I have to go to work.” Will laughs, already picking up the phone and dialing. It’s crazy. He can’t believe it. He’s finally getting somewhere in life, no longer breathing stale air just to hold it all together.  
-  
Will can’t believe he’s crying again, but he is. Nico’s smirking at him, though he’s also crying. They’re two idiots, trying to have a romantic moment on a rain-soaked day. The ocean is so loud that Nico’s got to shout to be heard, though Will would know even if he hadn’t heard.

They almost lose the ring in the surf, almost bury it in the sand. It slides onto Will’s finger, gritty with sand and salt-water. He has to make a fist to keep it from falling off. When he kisses Nico, everything tastes like salt.

They get married in that little paradise, off the backroads. Everyone who doesn’t know Nico and Will think it’s weird. Who would want to get married with a tobacco shop just behind you? (There are other things, too, but the tobacco shop is the worst.) Will doesn’t even smell the smoke. He smells the fresh rainfall, the salt, whatever cologne Nico is wearing.

“I’ll love you forever,” Nico says, finishing his vow. And it hits Will like a truck. Forever. Could Nico be his forever? Nico’s concerned face, soft touch, is what brings him back in.

“Yeah, forever,” he chokes out. He’s never told Nico his fear of the future. Nico just nods, smiling. He takes Will’s hands, kissing them.

“Forever, Will. Eternity.” And then Will realizes. Forever isn’t that hard to imagine. After all, he’s living in someone else’s forever. His mama’s present had shriveled away, but she was still here. Her memory was the future, her forever. Will breathes in. Breathes out.

Then he’s pulling Nico in for a kiss. He doesn’t even care that the pastor hasn’t said anything. He can hear him intoning behind them now, pronouncing them husbands, even though they’ve already sealed the deal. Nico would be Will’s forever even without the fanfare, but the cake and celebration are nice.

Later, after the celebration is over, he and Nico are sitting underneath one of the trees. They’ve still got their suits on, but neither of them cares. Dirt is just dirt. The moon is out, and so are the starts. But Will’s looking at Nico. At his black hair and brown eyes, at his olive skin and that little scar just underneath his jaw.

“I’m here, Will,” Nico says. He squeezes Will’s hand.

“I know,” Will says. And he does. Will wants to kiss Nico, to make love to him, to hold his hand, to start a family with him. But he’s got tomorrow for that, forever for that. Days where time will crawl so slowly and days where time will just slip right through the cracks.

But right now, he’s got the moon and the stars and Nico. And that’s enough for Will.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated :)


End file.
